


Ricochet

by meeshiefeet



Category: Walking Dead, Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Past Domestic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-18 19:18:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1439815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meeshiefeet/pseuds/meeshiefeet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carol is hit by a ricochet, and recovers in more than one way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ricochet

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> Caryl ficlet for rhinozilla's Operation Levity prompt "One of them gets the business end of some friendly fire during a training exercise. Nothing serious, it's just a really close call."
> 
> Some pain and fluff. Definitely fluff.
> 
> WARNING: Carol reflects a bit on her past with Ed. Nothing detailed.

"Carol!" Maggie’s scream echoed off the brick walls as they all ran to where she had fallen.

"I’m fine. I’m okay," Carol replied through gritted teeth, grimacing as she reflexively pressed her hand against her thigh to stanch the bleeding. Glenn reached her first, helping her sit up as the others arrived. She saw the panic on their faces and lifted her palm to them, wordlessly keeping the gathering crowd at bay. She had never enjoyed being pitied, and the sheer number of eyes focused on her at the moment felt worse than the sting of the graze.

"What happened?" she asked, addressing nobody in particular, hoping to deflect some of the attention elsewhere.

"Ricochet," Daryl answered as he reached her, kneeling down to check for himself that she really was alright. "Someone missed the far target. Caught the corner post." He slung her arm around his shoulder and lifted her off the ground. "Let’s get you inside."

"Pretty sure I could have walked, Daryl. Any excuse to pick up women, I swear," she teased as he carried her into the cellblock. He answered with a sideways glance and slight shake of his head, but she saw the half-smile he was trying to suppress, making her chuckle a bit despite the pain. Maggie had run ahead and grabbed first aid supplies, and Hershel joined them at Carol’s cell.

Once she was safely sitting on her bunk, Hershel and Daryl stepped out while Maggie helped Carol out of her torn pants and into some shorts. Carol was grateful the bullet had hit her low enough to allow her the dignity of being clothed while she was examined. As close as she was with Hershel, her past experiences in the ER had always filled her with a sense of shame, and she had trouble freeing her mind of that association. She felt more secure knowing there would be no backless gowns, no suggestions of gathering evidence, no crisis shelter phone numbers slipped discreetly into her palm.

Carol blinked away the memory as Maggie left and Hershel stepped back in. He cleaned and examined the wound, assuring her it wasn’t too deep and that she’d be up and about in no time. After bandaging her, he insisted she take some painkillers and talked her through how often she should continue them and change the bandages in case he was needed elsewhere when the time came. He also gave strict instructions that she should rest, pulling Daryl into the cell and emphatically directing him, “You make sure she does. Your cell’s closest, so it’s easiest for you to keep an eye on her. You know how she can be.” Hershel left before Carol could protest.

Daryl snorted at the crestfallen look on her face. “He just called me stubborn, didn’t he?” she asked incredulously before breaking into laughter herself.

"Guess he knows who he’s up against," he replied.

Carol gave him a wounded expression, but couldn’t maintain the seriousness of it and broke into another fit of giggles, certain that the painkillers were contributing to her sudden giddiness.

He came closer and knelt down in front of her bunk, eyeing the bandage nervously. “You scared us all today,” he said low, almost a whisper. “Scared me.”

Her giddiness dissolved and was replaced by a tiny flutter in her chest, that same flutter she felt every time he made it back from a run safely. Or when he gently touched her shoulder as they parted after council meetings. Or when he’d laugh at her jokes. She usually resisted touching him, allowing him to determine their proximity. But the drugs emboldened her and she reached for him, smoothing the hair off his face, her hand coming to rest in the crook of his neck and shoulder.

He closed his eyes and wrapped his hand over hers, holding it there. The gesture was simple, yet intimate. Her flutter morphed into pounding and she had to remind herself to breathe. She marveled at the way he was just with her, quiet and comforting, and flashed back to the aftermath of the last time she’d needed professional medical attention. How Ed was seething as he drove them home because “it wasn’t that bad,” and snapping about needing to take off work to drive her around like a damn chauffeur. She’d believed him that it was all her fault. Felt bad about needing his help when she couldn’t drive herself with her arm in a sling.

Carol felt a odd sense of peace. She’d come so far from that. She wouldn’t apologize for being herself anymore. And nobody expected her to, especially not the man holding onto her hand as she held onto him. She was grateful for the ricochet that reminded her that the past was past. She had her future right in front of her, in the palm of her hand.


End file.
